No Speak Italiano
by WhiteLadyDragon
Summary: Crowler attempts to teach the kids Italian, but it seems that the only Italian they've grasped is what they've learned from Chef Boyardee. And Boneparte's pushing his French nose in doesn't help at all.


**_Disclaimer: _All fictional entities in this segment properly belong to Kazuki Takahaski. Except Sara Scinner and Silpheed; they're mine. **

**Even though this is dub-verse, Crowler still seems to have as much appreciation for Italian culture as his Japanese counterpart. So I kinda...you know, made up the part about his heritage. **

**PS: I got the idea from watching _Beavis and Butthead, _but this wasn't intended to be a complete rip-off of it. If it is anyways, please say so. **

* * *

**_"NO SPEAK ITALIANO"_**

_"Buongiorno, codice categoria! Cominciamo il giorno con alcune esercitazioni parlanti, tutto il a destra?" _

Dr. Crowler walked to the first row and stood in front of Jaden Yuki, Syrus Truesdale and Tyranno Hassleberry. _"Signor Yuki, il che giorno è esso?" _He was asking Yuki what day it was, as morning exercises usually start out simple.

Since Jaden was just on his way to drifting into Dreamland, he woke with a start. "Huh? Wha...?" He pointed at himself, uncertain of who Dr. Crowler was talking to. His teacher nodded.

He scratched his head and gave a goofy grin. This was Italian class, so he had to say something Italian, right? "Um..._spaghetti?_"

Several students popped into light giggling fits.

"No, no, no! _Signor Hassleberry, il che giorno è esso?_" This time, he directed the question to the burly student on Jaden's right flank. Like his friend, he was on his way to Dreamland, thus he too awoke with a start.

"Wh-What in tarnation...?"

Crowler tapped his foot and scowled. This was Italian class; everyone needed to speak in Italian! And why was everyone falling asleep when the class had hardly even begun?

Hassleberry glanced up, and made a funny face. "Oh! Um_...beefaroni?_" Several more students burst out snickering.

Crowler slapped his face in disgust. "No, no! _Signor Truesdale, il che giorno è esso?_" He asked the short student on Jaden's left. He wasn't about to take a nap like his companions, but at the moment he realized that Crowler was speaking to him, he turned pale with anxiety. He may be a Ra student now, but this did not mean he was _entirely _confident in himself, especially when it came to answering a question in front of the class. Even more so since the question was in a foreign language.

A single bead of sweat formed on his temple. "Um...er..." The lenses of his glasses became foggy. The eyes of his peers felt like pins and needles down his back.

He said the first Italian thing that came on his mind: _"F-Fettucini!" _

Now the whole class exploded into laughter, like a field of triggered land mines. Defeated, Syrus sank back into his seat, and then a little lower than that.

Crowler sighed. There had to be _someone _in this class that could tell him what day it was in Italian! Feeling almost desperate for an answer, he turned his attention to Sara Scinner, an Obelisk girl who was wrapping pencils in her hair, as though they were hair curlers.

She didn't look like the type who would know one syllable of Italian, but everyone deserved a chance, right?

_"Signorina Scinner, il che giorno è esso?" _

Sara stopped trying to curl her hair and stared blankly at her teacher. "Huh?"

"_...Il che giorno è esso?" _

"Uh...hm...um, _burrito?_"

That was the straw that broke the gondola's back. "_BURRITO?! _That's Mexican, you cretin! What's _wrong _with you kids? You've all been in this class since you were freshmen, and yet the only Italian you know is what you learned from either Chef Boyardee or Olive Garden! And Scinner can't even get _that _right!"

"Well, we'd probably put more effort into it if learning to speak Italian was actually useful," grumbled Chazz Princeton. "Are you even Italian yourself? Because you sound so British, so it's kinda vague..."

Dr. Crowler sneered and thought, _I'm half-British, and half-Italian. With the best qualities of both, thank you very much!_

"But isn't Italy all about pasta and stuff?" said Jaden. "Like ravioli, alfredo, tortellini, gorgonzola, and _Riiiiicolaaaa_—!"

"First of all, gorgonzola is a _cheese, _not a pasta! Second, Ricola is not Italian, it's a Swiss cough drop! Swiss! And third, Italy is _NOT _just about pasta! There's a lot more meaning to it! Some of the world's most revolutionary minds came from Italy, you know! Like Da Vinci, or Galileo!"

For ten seconds, the children were quiet, as though trying to contemplate what their professor had said. They all began to mumble, then chatter at once:

"Hm, you know? Dr. C. could be right. There is more to Italy than pasta, isn't there?"

Crowler's heart skipped a beat. Could it be? Were his students finally grasping the true meaning of Italian?

"Like...olive oil!"

"Yeah! And romantic trips down the river on one of those fancy boats! What're they called, _granolas?_"

"How about wine and vineyards? My aunt got a bottle of wine from over there, and she spent the whole morning the next day with her head in the toilet."

"Or accordion music!"

"And the Pope!"

"And marble statues of naked ladies with no arms or heads!"

"Or the Eiffel Tower!"

"No, I think that's French."

Suddenly, the door whooshed open. Vice Chancellor Bonaparte waddled right inside, unannounced and certainly uninvited. "_Mes oreilles decieve me?_ Did someone just mention something _Français?_"

The last thing Crowler wanted in his Italian class was a French man. Surely, he'd just confuse the students even further? He dashed for Bonaparte and started to shove him back out. He bent over as far as he could and hissed into the shorter man's ear, "Get out of here, you croissant! This is _my _class!"

"Why are you wasting their time, you garlic breadstick? They should be learning something more meaningful, like how to activate face-downs in French! Then all the non-French people would be too confused to counter them! Plus, it's so easy that they could know the entire French dictionary in two weeks! _Gloire au Français!_" Bonaparte proclaimed, pumping one fist in the air and stuffing the other in his jacket.

"Yes, yes, very interesting. Now get back to your revolting _escargots _or whatever it is you French are into, and let me teach some wholesome _Italiano!_ _Arrivederci!_" With one final shove, he rolled his rival out of the door. As it whooshed back shut, he thought he heard Bonaparte cry:

_"Sacre bleu!" _

Crowler turned back around and dusted his hands. For a moment, he felt relief for having rid his class of French impurity. But the moment did not last, because just when he was beginning to feel better, Syrus piped up:

"...What about the Coliseum?"

"And mafias! Badda-bing, badda-bang! You think Al Capone was Italian?"

"Ooh, ooh, don't forget the Mario Brothers! Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo!"

"Holy canoles and mustaches!"

"Linguini with calamari!"

"Isn't calamari Japanese? Because of the squid and all?"

"Oh. But how about gelatin?"

"No, no, it's called _gelato, _you fools!"

Finally, Sara stood up on her chair. "Hey, people! You can't possibly forget about the Leanin' Tower of Pizza!"

"Whoa, that sounds delicious!"

That was enough for Crowler's heart to sink to the pit of his stomach, like a sauce-drenched meatball.

"Get this, it actually leans to one side, like it's trying to listen in on the visitors' conversations or something! And it's made out of a stack of gi-normous greasy pizza boxes, I think. Wonder if it's got pepperoni or anchovies?"

"_Blech! _I hate anchovies!"

Jaden grinned from ear to ear. "In that case, can I have your anchov—"

_"QUIET!" _Instantly, everyone fell stone-silent. Crowler took out a pink handkerchief and gnawed on it, huffing between his clenched teeth. How dare they belittle the majestic Italian culture! How _dare _they, _HOW DARE THEY! _

"You okay, Dr. C.? You look as red as spaghetti sau—"

The frustrated teacher stamped his foot. "I don't want to hear it! I'm-I'm-I'm giving you imbeciles ten seconds to answer my question! And if none of you can, you're all getting detention, and you're all flunking this class!_ Il che giorno è esso? Il che giorno è esso? _Well, I'm waiting!"

For five seconds, no one responded, perhaps because his proposal sounded awfully unfair. Or perhaps because they were shaken from his sudden outburst.

Suddenly, Sara's face lit up. "Ooh! Teach, I think I got it!"

"...You _do?_"

"Yup!" Sara took a deep breath...

_"Italian sub!" _

Bonaparte wiggled his way back inside. "See? I told you that French is the way to go! _Oui, oui!_"

Jaden gestured outside and beamed. "If you gotta go to the bathroom, Boneparte, it's down the hall and around the corner."

_Oh, mamma mia. It's times like these that make me wish I were Chancellor again..._

_**END!**_


End file.
